


falling away with you

by clayisforgirls



Series: all bets are off [2]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"as Marat keeps kissing him like this, keeps his hand on his dick and fingers pressing at his ass, he forgets why he cared about it in the first place"</p><p>Originally posted in May 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	falling away with you

Feather-light kisses are being pressed to his neck, hint of a tongue swiping across skin and combined with Marat's hand in his jeans, it's driving him insane.

Marat may be a slut, may have slept with half the tour but Mardy's past the point of caring, has been since Marat's hand slipped beneath denim in the bar, because he's so good at this, he's close to begging already and they're only in the elevator of the hotel, back pressed against mirrored glass, and when he opens his eyes he can see himself reflected from each and every angle.

His skin's flushed, hair tousled from Marat's fingers, lips parted, swollen from kisses, breathing heavily as Marat's hand presses against his dick. He can see the Russian's beautiful, and when he's pressed against him like his, Marat's mouth against his skin, he feels beautiful.

And then Marat twists his hand, and there's friction and he whimpers, cut off with a kiss and god, the man knows how to kiss, and he's clinging to Marat because he doesn't want it to end. He feels like a kid again, a teenager with overactive hormones, nervous but willing and eager, and he's sure Marat knows it, knows that if he keeps kissing him like this he'll get anything he wants, because Mardy won't be able to say no.

He doesn't even notice the elevator has stopped until Marat's fingers are tight around his wrist, pulling him along the corridor as he stumbles over his own feet. Until he's outside a door and when he looks at the numbers, the surroundings, he realises it's his hotel room door, not Marat's like he was expecting. But he doesn't mine, not as Marat playfully gropes him for the key card, kissing him in full view of anyone who might be in the corridor as he finds it in his back pocket, and it's Marat who opens the door, Mardy leaning on him until the light turns green and there's a familiar click, pressing a kiss to his neck as he's taken inside.

Door shuts behind them but they don't notice, they're already kissing again, Mardy finding himself pressed against the wall, shirt unbuttoned, jeans pulled down to his thighs and then there's kisses trailed across his hip, across his stomach and he whimpers softly as Marat rubs his tongue along his dick, hands tangled in curls. And it's better than he remembered as Marat takes him into his mouth, wet heat fucking fantastic and he doesn't care how loud he is, doesn't care how thin the walls are or who hears them, not when Marat's that good.

There's no warning as Marat pulls away, giving the tip of his cock a flick with his tongue as he does, already leaking pre-cum, and he looks down the find Marat smirking. He's not even sure why he's surprised, the smirk curling at the corners of his mouth already one of his most used expressions and if he wasn't being kissed again, he'd hit Marat for being such a tease.

Make that the biggest tease he's ever known because as soon as Marat's hand brushes his cock again it's gone, and he whimpers in protest, arching his hips for the friction but doesn't get it.

"All in good time, beautiful," Marat murmurs in his ear, trailing kisses down his neck again, across his collarbone, and he can feel the flush spread across his skin because he's never been called beautiful before. Cute, pretty, adorable, but never beautiful and he smiles, dragging Marat into a kiss, tongue rubbing against his own and there's a soft moan from Marat, pressing closer until they're both gasping for air.

"You're not so bad yourself," he says softly, teasing, because Marat is gorgeous and he's sure he knows it, there's no way someone could be that hot and not know it, especially the way he flaunts it in the locker room, all the self confidence in the world as he walks around naked. Which Mardy's never minded, because Marat really is one of the most gorgeous men that he's ever laid eyes on.

Not that he would ever tell Marat that. He doesn't need another smirk from the Russian as he deftly unbuttons his jeans, pulling them off and into a kiss as he traces Marat's hipbones with his thumbs, only breaking it as he tugs the black t-shirt over Marat's head. Jeans are kicked off simultaneously and then they've back to kissing, Marat's already hard cock pressing against his stomach.

He looks a leg around Marat's waist - and at times like this he loves the flexibility tennis brings - keeping him close and he'd love for Marat to fuck him like this, legs wrapped around his waist, pressed against the wall, but he doesn't know if Marat's knee will take it. Doesn't really want to find out, not only because it would be horribly embarrassing to have to explain to someone, but also because he doesn't want Marat injured again, he knows what it's like and it's never fun for anyone.

Especially if they can keep doing this, because fuck, it's good, bare skin sticking together with sweat from the humid evening, air conditioning not working like it should and Mardy's glad he hadn't called to get it fixed, because he'd hate it right now, loves Marat being pressed against him like this, kissing him lazily, tongue massaging his own and he briefly wonders when everything stopped being a desperate need for friction and turned into this.

And then he brushes a thumb over the head of Marat's dick and it's back to being desperate, Russian arching against him, grinding into his hand and he grins, loving this, loving having the control for the first time as he sucks on Marat's bottom lip, fingers pressing at his ass, thumb circling his rectum and oh god, there's his favourite sound he's ever heard, because he makes Marat whimper - and he can't believe Marat Safin whimpers - and then he wraps his hand around Marat's cock, rubbing gently and there's a better one, a more desperate one, and this time, he's the one with the smirk.

Marat trails a hand up his thigh, pushing his leg from around his waist gently and he's about to say something but he doesn't quite manage, only a squeak comes out as he's turned swiftly by talented hands, pressed against the wall, Marat against his back now, kissing the nape of his neck, swirling a tongue across his shoulders and he's knows he's going to get fucked, almost confirmed when Marat gets down on his knees again, dragging his tongue down the crack of his ass and he's never had this done before either.

Something not unlike a wail escapes him as Marat pushes his tongue inside him gently, hands scrambling to hold onto anything but there's nothing there, nothing for him to grip and then there's just Marat's arm around his waist, hand around his cock, tongue circling his ass hole and god, this is fucking good. So good he's almost incoherent, until his tongue slides up his spine, shivering under Marat's touch as he kisses the back of his neck.

"Lube," is murmured in his ear and it takes a moment to process what Marat wants, shaking, Marat's hand still around his cock and he just wishes that Marat would do something with it, jerk of his hips not quite enough friction to do anything more than tease him more. Fingers are pressing at his ass now, and he tenses as Marat slowly inserts one, just his own spit as lubricant, but it doesn't hurt that much, not as much as he thought it would but one's not enough, not close to being enough, and he whimpers, begging for more, one hand blindly reaching behind him and pulling Marat closer by his hips.

"Mardy, if you want to get fucked, you need to tell me where the lubricant is," and a kiss is dragged across his cheek, hint of teeth and he hadn't realised it had been that long since Marat asked him for it the first time, and it takes him a moment to remember where he'd put it, not actually thinking he'd get to use it because he hasn't been fucked in so long he's almost forgotten what it feels like.

"Bathroom. In-" and he gasps as Marat sucks on his neck gently, knows there will be a mark tomorrow but doesn't care, "in the wash bag. I can get-"

"You'll stay right here for me," Marat says, and something in his voice almost compels Mardy to do what he says, nodding slowly as Marat kisses the back of his neck again, dragging his tongue down the bumps on his spine before the warmth of his body disappears. He can hear rummaging, a curse in what sounds like Russian as Marat does something and then Marat's pressed against him again, hand curling at his waist as he uncaps the lube one handed.

And that's a talent that Mardy doesn't possess, guesses it's from so much practise and he still hasn't worked out why the fact that Marat sleeps with everyone in sight doesn't bother him. Because it should, he wasn't brought up like that, he's not like that himself but there's something about Marat that's so intriguing, so captivating and he briefly wonders if that's how he gets half the tour to give him blowjobs in showers. The fact that he's good looking notwithstanding.

But then that doesn't matter, because Marat's not wasting any time, fingers inside him already, twisting and pressing and he's whimpering again, eyes shut as Marat curls his fingers and hits that spot, and it always makes him moan. It's no different now, cry of ‘Marat' from him as another finger is added, hands clawing at the walls.

Another whimper as fingers disappear, then a real kiss, height difference perfect for it as he twists slightly in Marat's arms, hand reaching around to pull him closer, tracing his hip bone and he loves it as Marat moans softly as he not-quite-accidentally brushes his dick again.

"Tease," is murmured against his lips before Marat pulls away, kissing down his neck before Mardy's pinned back against the wall, Marat's fingers laced with his own, palms flat against the wall as he slowly pushes into him, and either he hasn't done this for so long he's forgotten the stretch, the pain that's quickly cancelled out with pleasure, or Marat's a lot bigger than his previous fucks.

Probably a bit of both, and as Marat pushes into him that bit further he keens, back arching, pushing back against Marat and there's a moan from the Russian and fuck, he hasn't felt anything like this ever. Already Marat's the best he's ever had, and he hasn't even done anything yet. And when he does, pulling back a tiny bit and pushing in even further he wails, so loud that probably everyone in the entire hotel can hear him but he can't help it.

Doesn't care either, can't even think about it, because Marat's thrusting into him an there's nothing gentle about it, it's hard and fast and every time his hips arch his dick rubs against the rough wallpaper, tiny bit of friction sending sparks down his spine. Somehow he's always known Marat would be like this, just one quick fuck before he leaves, but it's better than he could even imagine, hands still pinned to the wall, Marat's curling around his as he grunts close to his ear, he's whimpering and moaning because it's fantastic, better than that, the best thing he's ever felt.

He didn't want to have to beg Marat, but he is, every thrust now like torture, pushing him closer against the wall, every nerve in his body tingling, the heat against his back, and he's almost boneless, leaning back against the body behind him, and the voice in the back of his head that's telling him to mind Marat's knee is silenced as Marat bites down gently at the crook of his neck, tongue lapping at the marks, hand drifting to his cock and that's it, he's done for, feels like he's coming apart at the seams as he comes.

And he's screaming as he explodes, bright white light behind his eyes, Marat still pushing into him and by the time he's done he's shaking, limp, doesn't have the strength to hold himself up because he's never come like that before. Marat murmurs something in his ear, kisses his neck softly, but he's still coming round, pressed against the wall, Marat still inside him, and the Russian comes with a grunt, a moan that sounds suspiciously like his name, and the weight at his back gets heavier.

Eyes are shut as he's pressed against the wall for support, breathing still heavy, and Marat's trailing light kisses across his shoulders and up his neck until their mouths meet in a sloppy kiss. He doesn't have the energy to move, not now, because the match exhaustion has caught up with him, muscles aching and not just from the fantastic sex.

"Bed, Fishie," Marat says softly and he doesn't protest, not even a little bit as Marat wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer as they half walk, half stumble to the bedroom. "You're exhausted," and he's kissed before Marat carries on, "you played well today."

"Beat a fucking good player," he mumbles, brain only half processing that it was Marat he beat, it's why they're here, before he collapses onto the bed, Marat joining him after a moment of hesitation. "You can stay," he says quietly and it gets a smile from the Russian, a warm kiss pressed to his neck as he closes his eyes.

"Thank you," he's sure he hears Marat murmur but he doesn't ask if he did, just curling closer to him as he drifts into the dreamless sleep he's accustomed to after the big matches.

Though it's different from usual as he's woken again, a warm mouth around his cock, fingers tracing his hip bones and he looks down to see Marat through half-lidded eyes, still half asleep but this, this is a fucking fantastic way to wake up.

Soft whimpers fill the dim room, the only light from the small lamp in the corner and he can't think how gorgeous Marat is like this, his skin glowing golden, shadows flitting across his skin as his head bobs ever so slowly, teasing him until his hips jerk, and he smiles down at Marat. Who stops, coming up for a kiss and his hand curls at the back of Marat's neck, fingers threading through dark curls, pulling him closer, off balance until he gets the leverage he needs, hooking a leg around Marat's waist, because the tension in Marat's body says it all, he's just trying not to show his weakness to his lover for the evening.

And in seconds he's straddling Marat's hips, blonde hair pushed out of his face as this time, Marat pulls him down for a kiss, nipping at his bottom lip until he laughs softly, rocking their hips together slowly, cocks pressed between their bodies.

It's good, but it's not enough, and lazily he leans over to the nightstand, not breaking the kiss, fumbling for the lube until the lid's off, and he squirts some into the palm of his hand, ready to prepare himself because he doesn't want to hurt Marat's knee anymore than it already is.

"Let me do that, Fishie," Marat says softly, smiling, kissing him, tongue running across his lower lip and when Marat sops the lube's been swiped off the palm of his hand. He shudders as Marat rubs his thumb around his hole, inserts a finger gently, then another, and he leans forward as Marat finger fucks him, trembling as he's kissed.

And he wishes Marat wasn't so damn good at this, because he's never so turned on before the sex, know it'll be harder knowing that he'll never have this again, but he pushes it out of his mind, determined to enjoy it for what might be the last time. He's shaking as Marat curls his fingers, moan bitten back until Marat does it again, adding another and he's gasping now, moaning as he arches his back, hand sliding along Marat's chest as a hand wraps around his cock, jerking him off slowly.

One more moan as he pulls away, so very close now, letting his breathing calm before he lifts his hips, sliding onto Marat's dick slowly, whimpering as Marat fills him and his breath hitches because it's the same as last night but different, somehow this way Marat feels bigger, or maybe that's just because he doesn't need it as much, he hasn't been teased to the point where he'll do anything just to get off.

He rocks his hips gently, making Marat moan, telling him to keep still because he doesn't want him to hurt his knee anymore and he's surprised when he doesn't get an argument from him, instead he just continues jerking him off, slowly, in time with his movements. And he leans forward a little more, hands clenched in sheets, every gasp of air precious because he's close already, Marat so big that he's stretched, each jerk of his hips making him see stars and he's coming as Marat kisses him, tightening around Marat's cock.

And then Marat's coming too with a moan and he pulls back, breathless, staring at the gorgeous Russian beneath him with his eyes shut, dark eyelashes against golden skin until dark eyes look into his own and he blushes caught in the act

The hand tangled in his hair pulls him forward, into another kiss, and he slips off Marat's softening cock as Marat presses a kiss just below his earlobe, smiling, and there's just one more before he collapses onto the bed next to the Russian. There's the twinge of an ache as he stretches his legs out but he ignores it, it's almost comforting.

There aren't any more words, just silence until he hears the light snores from Marat, and then he shifts on the bed, looking at the Russian, really looking for the first time. Realises exactly how beautiful Marat is, golden skin making him glow in this light, and Mardy thinks this is probably what angels look like, except they'd probably be less gay and less slutty. Well, maybe not less gay, because if he remembers correctly, all the angels were male and they had to find something to pass the time.

He stifles a giggle at that thought, and kisses Marat softly, the Russian murmuring slightly as he does so but he doesn't wake, and it's only then that he closes his eyes again, head resting on an outstretched arm.

It's light when he wakes for the second time, sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, thicker drapes still open and he rubs his eyes sleepily, smiling when he turns to find Marat still there.

He hadn't expected Marat to stay the night despite the fact he'd said he could, and he'd accepted that, Marat not seeming the type to stay longer than the fuck, or even let people sleep in his bed. But Mardy's glad he hasn't left yet, because it might mean there's another chance for a fuck, one before breakfast, before Marat leaves him.

A kiss is pressed to Marat's half open mouth, eyes open sleepily and it's cute, better when Marat pulls him into a real kiss, long fingers tangled in his hair, not letting him pull away until he can't breathe, and he's smiling when he does, because even a half awake Marat can kiss better than most people.

Kisses are dotted down his chest, tongue flicking over a dark nipple, the other one rolled between his fingers and the moan he gets from Marat is all the encouragement he needs. Hand glides over the curve of his stomach, along his hip bone, down his inner thigh, mouth following the same path, nibbling and sucking at a patch skin adjacent to dark curls, only satisfied when he pulls back and sees the mark. His mark, and as he rubs his thumb over it Marat whimpers softly, that perfect sound again, and it's something he's still amazed at, had never expected it from Marat.

"Mardy," comes the half gasp as he kisses Marat's cock from the base to the tip, tongue trailing along it until he takes as much as he can into his mouth, one hand at the base, other resting on Marat's hip, and Marat moans again, clenching the sheets between his fingers.

The moans are enough to make him hard, and right now he'd love Marat to just flip him over and fuck him into the mattress, much like he did last night except in a bed, but he doesn't know if Marat's knee is up to it. Doesn't feel like asking, not when he's getting this kind of response from him.

Hands tug on his hair but he doesn't budge, and he's beginning to love the way Marat tastes too. Musky, not too heavy, just a hint of lemon and something not unlike vodka and underneath that there's pure sex, though that's more than likely from last night. It's intoxicating; perfectly Marat and he can't get enough.

His hand moves from Marat's hip to tracing his inner thigh, drawing swirls with his fingers and a muted giggle turns into a moan. And he's finding out a lot about the Russian that he wouldn't have expected, like he whimpers, he giggles, and he's ticklish, apparently. Things which half the tour probably know, but somehow he feels special, privileged to know it.

The dragged out moans and whimpers are more than enough to make him suck just that tiny bit harder; an accidental teeth scrape gets a whimper and he rubs the area with his tongue in an apology. He doesn't want to hurt Marat, not one bit, especially not now.

Because there's a tiny bit of hope that Marat will stay long enough for breakfast, doesn't think he will because he can't imagine him making conversation over coffee, and even though he doesn't know Marat, he doesn't want this to be over, loves Marat's gentle touch maybe too much. And just maybe he'll stay longer if he gets this blowjob now, giving Mardy a chance to show that Marat's not the only one with skills. Perhaps he's not quite as experienced as Marat, but he's never had a complaint before.

And for now, it seems to be working.

"Fucking tease, Fishie," Marat gets out between hitched breaths as he pulls off his dick, replacing his mouth with his hand, feather light touches and there's a whimpered gasp of, "so fucking good," and that's all he needs to give into Marat, just that one compliment from the man who made him scream last night. And he wants to do the same thing.

"Gonna scream for me?" he half-teases before he starts to suck Marat off again, harder this time, his hips jerking and he gets just enough warning from Marat not to choke on his dick. And that's a good thing, Marat bigger than anyone he's given a blowjob to before and he doesn't want to choke. Doesn't want to embarrass himself, so he's more than careful.

Until there's a knock at the door, and he's determined to ignore it, Marat's moans silencing the sounds until he hears Andy's voice and groans, Marat whimpering at the vibrations around his cock, and he pulls away, crawling up Marat's body until they're millimetres apart

"He has a key," is all he says before pressing a kiss to his lips softly, tongue tracing the outline of his lower lip. "Don't go anywhere."

It gets an eye roll and a smirk from Marat, and as he heads towards the door of his hotel room he picks up the discarded boxer shorts from last night, pulling them on before he opens the door to Andy. One of the closest friends he's ever had and sometimes the bane of his life, always picking the inopportune moments to interrupt him.

"How was he?" Andy asks with a hint of a smirk before he's left into the room, and by the time Mardy's shut the door Andy's already sprawled over the couch, feet on the coffee table, and Mardy just rolls his eyes, because it's so like Andy to barge in without any warning.

"Good morning to you too," he replies, leaning against the wall, the same one they fucked against last night and the thought sends a shiver of arousal through him, making his skin flush.

"You can tell me over breakfast, Mar," Andy says absently, room service menu in his hand. "What are you having?"

He groans, wanting to throw Andy out but he doesn't have the heart. Not to Andy, and not this early in the morning, not at-

Shit, 10:24, and really it's not that early at all.

Apparently he'd been really, really tired last night, because he doesn't sleep late, not ever, but he knows from the pleasant aches, the familiar twinges of getting fucked last night, it's not just from the match.

"Or we can wait until lunch, whatever you want Mar, and I've decided to quit tennis and become a porn star. Got an offer last night and decided to take my chances on it."

"No you haven't," he says, smiling, and Andy grins right back at him, and it's always good to know they can settle back into this, them being friends, joking with each other because it feels so natural. "Sorry, I was just…"

"Spacey? It's cool. What do you want?" and Andy holds the menu up again, and he sighs, because Andy's always thinking with either his stomach or his dick. Sometimes both. But right now he doesn't watch breakfast, not now, not when Marat's naked and hard in the next room, not when he might never get another chance at this, ever, and he wants to make the most of it.

"Earth to Mardy," and a hand is waved in front of his face, and he blinks because he doesn't know when Andy moved, or how he got in front of him so fast. "Where are you this morning?"

"He's with me."

Kiss dragged across his mouth as he turns slightly, blushing as he sees that Russian's lack of shame because he's naked, still hard, erection digging into his back as an arm is looped around his waist. Barely there kisses are pressed to his neck, Marat stroking his stomach softly, fingers running through fine hair.

And for a moment he forgets Andy's there, fingers now dancing across his stomach and he shuts his eyes, leaning back against Marat. If it was anyone else doing this to him he'd take it as a sign of affection, tenderness, intimacy, but this is Marat Safin. For all he knows he could use this to get people into bed with him, and probably does.

"Still owe me the rest of that blowjob," Marat murmurs into his ear but he knows it's loud enough for Andy to hear, only confirmed when he glances at his friend and there's shock all over his face, jealously between the lines and really he doesn't want Andy to be jealous of him, but for just this once it's nice to have something than Andy wants. Rather than it being the other way around, like it almost always is.

"Don't you have any shame, Safin?" Andy questions, and he feels Marat chuckle behind him, shaking his head.

"No," he says and Mardy knows he's being honest, suppresses a laugh himself as Andy's expression darkens, Marat's grip on his waist tightening until talented fingers are beneath the waistband of his boxers, tracing smooth skin until they rest on his cock. Eyes shut gently, and there's a soft whimper from him as he presses closer against Marat, skin sticking together all over again, and he can feel the tension in the air. He's caught in the middle of a pissing contest - over what, he doesn't know - and he wishes he wasn't. He's seen them scream at each other before, abuse each other in every language they know and then some, and it never ends well.

But it doesn't seem to matter anymore as callused fingers stroke his dick gently, stomach curling, sparks of pleasure running up his spine, and there's a disgusted glare from Andy, can feel himself blush everywhere as Andy stalks out, door slamming behind him, and for one brief moment there's silence.

"Looks like you're all mine," and there's no way he can resist that tone, not when Marat's sucking on his neck, and he turns in Marat's arms, kissing him properly, tongue rubbing over Marat's own.

And there's a shriek from him as he's pushed to the floor, Marat coming with him, and he's laughing as Marat kisses him again, pinning him down and he's never felt so helpless but he just doesn't care. Not now, and not ever, and he knows what Andy means now, why sex with someone just for one night can be so good. There are no inhibitions, nothing to be afraid of, it's just purely for your own pleasure. Getting off, as Andy would probably say.

He'll have to see Marat again after this, have to face the fact that he's just the most recent in a line of guys that could probably extend the whole way across America. But as long as Marat keeps kissing him like this, keeps his hand on his dick and fingers pressing at his ass, he forgets why he cared about it in the first place.

Marat makes him feel special, cherished, like he's the only person in the world. And right now, that's the only thing that matters to Mardy.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Falling Away With You" by Muse, which is actually a song about a breakup. But it's such a great song, and the title works.


End file.
